Some Wounds Never Heal
by xSilverwingx
Summary: Yes, it's the summer hols! I have time to eat, sleep, and...WRITE! I will finish!:Meet two new characters, Elizabeth and James torn between fear, and the age long wounds of old souls...can they be together when so much pain has engulfed Lizzy for so long?
1. A Forgotton Meeting

This is it, the kinda revised addition of the tale.  
  
Some Wounds Never Heal  
-A Forgotten Meeting-  
  
Some Wounds Never Heal  
  
James came onto the station platform and looked towards the dark clouds above, swelling cold and snow as they brushed against his face, and fluttered gently towards the darkened train tracks. A rumbling noise sounded the approach of the train that would take him to his home, and the platform's people surged towards the opening door. A wave of hair whipped across his face as a small girl barged past him onto the train. The bump pushed him backwards into the wall of the station toilets, leaving him to be hit by a wave of coldness that washed all over his body, searching for a way to seep under his clothes and reach into his exposed his skin. Shuddering, he pulled his coat closer to him and stepped gingerly onto the train.  
  
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Elizabeth sat down on the worn train seat, blinking back tears of fury. She was so annoyed and had no sensible reason to be. It was just such a bad day. Her first day at her new school and it had been awful. She had sat at the end of a row of seats, surrounded by a swarm of unfamiliar faces, each buzzing with conversation with all of their friends, whilst she had sat, silent and alone. The rejection had touched her deep inside, as if awakening an old memory. She swallowed another painful lump in her throat and dozed, depressed, on the seat, avoiding any chewing gum. She didn't hear the door slide open, she was already fast asleep.  
  
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James tip-toed through the carriage door and stared at the sleeping girl laid on the carriage seat, she looked about the same age as he, maybe younger, twelve or so, her eyes were red and puffy, as if she'd been crying, he smiled, she looked sweet, innocent. He shook the thought away and sat down on the opposite seat, watching the sleeping girl's sad face. Silently, a cold tear slipped down her cheek and her head tossed from side to side. Small moans escaped from her cold dried lips, as though she was in pain. Worried, James kneeled in front of her, gently hushing her back to sleep. This was confusing, he felt fiercely protective of this girl he had never met before.  
  
Like a father or lover, he wiped the lone tear gently away, feeling the smooth crisp skin under his fingers, and electricity tingled at their touch. The whole world unfocused and jerked sharply away.  
  
James was in a dark alley, a figure walk alone down the street, it was the girl on the train but a lot older. She walked, heels clicking gracefully down the alley, an 80's styled black jacket with shoulder pads, flung over a long dress, framed her curves. Neon lights flashed at one end silhouetting a dark shadowed figure. The girl seemed to notice, she sped up, widening her steps rather than running, if only she could make it to the main street she'd be safe. It wasn't far now, 20 metres...15metres...she could see the people now...10metres...it was just in reach...wham.  
  
She was trapped from behind, dark arms locked around her, one over her mouth, the other enclosed tightly on her breast. She elbowed the man hard in the stomach and leaped for a get away. She tripped, the attacker catching her foot.  
  
"You'll pay for that bitch!" The rapist slapped her hard across her face with the back of his hand, James tried to help, screaming in fury but couldn't move. He simply watched, helpless as the man tore her clothes, and clawed at her soft skin. Pinning her down with such efficiency, as he ground painfully into her, satisfying his greed and kneading her breasts. James watched in disgust and horror as the attacker bit into her neck, feeding on her pure blood whilst climaxing. He pulled away and groaned savagely, the girls blood pooling uselessly on the damp concrete.  
  
Withdrawing from the girl, he straightened his clothes, wiped the blood from his mouth and walked calmly away. James was freed from his unseen bonds, and he ran to the girl, calling to her, trying to stop the lethal flow of blood. The alley shuddered and dissolved from his view.  
  
James was in a hospital, the girl lay motionless of crisp white sheets, bandages were wrapped tightly around her neck and head, an oxygen mask covered her nose and mouth. He watched her heartbeat jump rhythmically on the monitor, and stared mournfully at the nurses as they changed drips, and checked her life signs. James looked at her name card, Elizabeth, pretty.  
  
The room lurched again. This time James found himself somewhere else, another hospital perhaps. Elizabeth sat in a chair, her brown hair had been cut roughly short, and plain blue dressing gown tied awry around her thin frail body. No mirth had touched her face for so long, she looked inhuman. James watched the Doctors and Nurses try to give her, her daily medication, she would fight anyone who tried to come near her, flailing viciously on the floor, screaming with fright and lashing out at all.  
  
James watched each day, he watched her fear, her decreasing weight, he watched her slit her own wrists. He watched them find her, bandage her, he watched her heart stop. James touched Elizabeth's cold hand, and walked away from the dead body.  
  
"Let me out," he whispered. "Let me out...........LET ME OUT!!!!" He smashed his fists against the white wall, "Please, just let me go..."  
  
The train carriage came back into focus, Elizabeth slept still, her face blank. James removed a necklace from around his neck, on the end hung a black rose within a circle of vine leaves, the vine representing protection and healing, a gift from his grandmother. He hung it around her neck and kissed her lightly on the forehead, she needed it more than he.  
  
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Elizabeth woke up suddenly, the train was slowing down. Falling painfully off the seat, the strange necklace swung into view. It was cool to the touch, and the dizzy headache that usually came after she cried disappeared as she placed it's cooling design to each of her throbbing temples. She smiled, feeling alot better than she had done in a while. She had a friend. She opened the dirt streaked door and watched the blurry Heavesham Station sign come into view.  
  
James was gone.  
  
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Please be lovely and inform me of any improvements..or shambles by REVIEWING!!!!! 


	2. Questions, Answers and Annoyances

Disclaimer:I didn't create the Nightworld thing (alas!) though Liz and James and the English teacher etc. are mine  
  
Please please review!!!!!! *does dramatic dying impression* Need ideas, comments, criticisms, to, live.  
  
~ = telepathic speaking thing symbol  
  
Questions Asked, Questions Answered  
  
James sat at a compass scratched desk, only partially aware of the droning of his literacy aged English teacher read to the class, twiddling with his oversized beard and scowling at the sniggering students. The boy continued reading the tantalizing passage in his book, that held the vital information he seeked:  
  
".....in the matter of one or both of soul mated partners being old souls, careful consideration must be taken to ensure memories of former lives are not awakened in bulk when the soul link is formed, causing parts of the mind to be reached, not usually accessed in the conscious world. Explaining why these lives are seen in dreams, and the soul link, being of neither a conscious or unconscious event, is a very dangerous state for an old soul. The average mind is not capable of withstanding this returning flow of memory, and can result in memory loss, denial, confusion, fainting, hysteria and in extreme cases, comas. However, this can be avoided by...."  
  
Shit. The round face of Mr. Wriley loomed dangerously close to James, the book was wrenched from his grip.  
  
"Good-afternoon Mr. Wildfire, would you care to share with us what you seem to find more important than my lesson? Or will you simply take over from me?" Mr. Wriley turned to the front to the book, and raised his eyebrows. A look of amusement flashed across his face. "The roots and branches of the soulmate principal, by Wise Woman Harman, very....interesting James, what a delightful romantic side we seem to have! I think I've found our new Romeo!" James sunk deep into his seat, his face emotionless, but edged with bitterness. " I think I had better keep a hold on this, incase Loverboy here, gets too carried away." Mr. Wriley placed James' book in his draw, locking it firmly away, and James picked up the current group book, Huckleberry Finn, and read with the him. He'd just have to wait till later to retrieve the book, its content should not be read by any, non Nightworld members. The Blackheart twins behind him, punched James heartily hard in the back, Cory laughed loudly in his mind.  
  
~ Pining for our soulmate are we Jamesie Wamesie? You better get that book back, or heads are going to roll. ~  
  
Larry piped in: ~ Well, one head will roll...you know.your head will roll ~  
  
~ Shut up Larry ~ James flicked out behind with his hands, catching the wrists of both, and squeezed hard. He could hear the bones gave a satisfying crunch, Cory flinched angrily.  
  
~ The only heads to roll, will be yours, and believe me, I'll make sure it's by my hand. ~ He released them, eyes flashing with impatience. ~ I'll get the book back. ~  
  
James ignored their ranting for the rest of the lesson, he knew those wrists would ache for a while, and if not, he could always stick pencils into them. The bell went, snapping James out of his daydream of riddling the Blackheart twins with pencils. The class raced out of the classroom, only the twins stayed longest, with the simple message of ~ Break your neck ~.  
  
Calmly, James headed to the desk of Mr. Wriley, spreading an aura of peace and reassurance., noticed, James chose to speak first and save himself a highly sophisticated scold.  
  
"Sir, I am very sorry for reading during your lesson," James said in his best innocent little teacher's pet voice, "It was just so captivating, I couldn't put it down." The boy scanned the teachers physical signs, if he wasn't going be nice, James would have to react quickly, he hadn't the skill or power, at so young an age, to influence a full grown man's thoughts and feelings unless he caught him off his guard. There, a flinch, a twitch upon his brow, usually unnoticed by most, though perfectly obvious to even a Vampire child.  
  
"Well, James, I encourage extensive reading to everyone, and I am pleased to see you experimenting with different genres, though not in my lesson," again, another twitch, a change of look usually taken on by teachers when they are about to perform a nasty, rule enforcing act. As quick as a flash, James made eye contact, and sent a bolt of his mental power rushing into Mr. Wriley's mind, altering his previous decision. For a tenth of a second, James was in the control seat, and created the natural decision to open the draw, and return the book with a word of warning, and a typical "now off you go" remark.  
  
Like a puppet, Mr. Wriley followed his/James' decision, and opened the draw with a clang of his keys.  
  
"I'm going to return this to you, but I don't want to see you wedged between such a piece of literature at the incorrect moment again. Agreed?" James gave an apologetic nod, like a child who has broken one of his mother's best bowls.  
  
"Good. Now off you run!" James skipped off sulkily with his book. A soon as he was out of the door, he gave an extremely devilishly sexy smile.  
  
Works like a charm.....  
  
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If you are friend, you will perform the noble duty.and.REVIEW!!! 


	3. Dead Ends For James

Disclaimer: I don't own the NightWorld thing *sobs*  
  
Demands:Please Review!!!!!!!!!  
  
Thanks to everyone to who's reviewed!Esp my three girls, smily, loz and lil' lisa. Oh, note to Andrea, Liz isn't a vamp, though James is and he isn't the old soul. Sorry...everyone keeps getting confused.  
  
So, briefing....Liz is asleep on the train and she has a bad dream/memory of one of her particularly nasty lives (she has alot) James - soulmate of Liz, forms a soul link by touching her cheek (sweet! I know) and he goes in with the dream with her and sees the horrible past (her getting raped by a different vamp, not James, James wasn't alive yet)...leaving the token of his love in form of a necklace. Now James is searching for a way to avoid his seeing what he did again. However, he's having no luck so he's going to the Kent Daybreak headquarters.....If anyone has any more queries, just stick it on a review, and I'll put a note on the next chapter.  
  
Dead Ends For James  
  
James peered over the piles of books that had been building up over the last few hours, and ran his fingers through his messy dark brown hair. He couldn't remember the last time he'd slept properly. He was a withdrawn, broken figure. He'd been looking for years for an answer to a question he was probably never going to get. The best snippet of information he'd got was 'memory stress can be released and neutralized through different forms of energy', but then the book had concluded with, 'experiences differ with each person'. He was getting no where. He'd spent the last few months looking for something, anything, that would stop him seeing what he saw again, stop her from hurting. He shuddered at the thought, he couldn't face watching Elizabeth's life slip away again, watch her slit her own wrists again...He smiled distractedly at a middle aged, rosy cheeked witch, as she passed him. He would have to go somewhere....better equipped. The Kent Daybreak Head Quarters, perfect, it was stocked with the best, oldest, newest, varied texts he knew. But how to get there...  
  
James sat huddled against a Play-station, deeply involved in a game of "Buffy - The Journey of a Slayer", the irony in killing your own kind in computer game form was too tempting for him, though humans don't do any different in their wars, in ways far more gruesome, and yet, vampires are always seen as worse. Just thinking about the events of the second world war, and his father's accounts of it, reduced James opinion of them greatly. He decided to get revenge on the them by watching the badly programmed vampires ( we're more intelligent than that, what do they think we are? Zombies? ) tear the, almost identical twin of Barbie, slayer to pieces. Restarting the game, he watched it happen all over again. Fun. He'd probably need therapy for this soon. James listened to the sound of his mother, thundering down the stairs in a swish of fiery red hair. Pulling himself away from the dying Buffy, James turned to watch his mother hand comb her hair in the hall mirror. Bouncing shortly behind, his mid thirties looking vampire father followed doing his tie. James' mother took over. The boy leaned casually against the door frame.  
  
"Now James, we'll be back some time after twelve and if I find you out of bed I'll cut your allowance, or your hair..."  
  
"Mum!" she ruffled the red streaked brown 'mane'.  
  
"Far too long," she stood back and viewed her sixteen year old son, and wondered what had happened to turn her promising child, into a lonely wreck. "Well, how do we look." James viewed the grand pair. His Redfern mother and Wildfire father had met three hundred years ago, as vampire kiddies, at a ball, and hid in the pudding room. They'd been friends ever since. It wasn't until the end of the second world war, after his father, Demitrius, returned from fighting (he'd been for humans ever since he tried chocolate in that same pudding room) and they realised that their feelings for each other were deeper than they thought. Now, they were off to a Daybreak meeting to discuss unions with some rogue Vampire gangs.  
  
"Stunning, knock 'em dead," with an apologetic nod for the appalling pun, he shooed them out of the house and watched them drive away. As soon as the pair had disappeared around the corner, James grabbed his bag and leaped onto his bike, he had some research to do.  
  
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What will he uncover at the library???  
  
Moths..souls...or old socks???  
  
Review and continue..... 


	4. Dead Ends For Elizabeth

Disclaimer : Don't own the Nightworld thingy, James and Lizzy and co. Are mine though.  
  
Thanks to all who are reviewing, keep it up!!! Sorry about the shortness of the 4th and 5th but I'm trying to obviously change from Lizzy's view, and James'. Any ideas, post me a review. Any moans, post me a review. Any praises, post me review *hint hint*. God, this is a short one. Sorry, nice cliffhangers though, don't you think? PLEASE REVIEW!!! It really does encourage me to write. I've completely abandoned homework for the last week!  
  
Apologies to lisa about some of the content, they say all main charaters are really the authors in disguise. It's a very familiar scene isn't it?  
  
Dead Ends For Elizabeth  
  
Elizabeth stared at her drawing, and then at her friend, drawing, friend, drawing, friend.There was something not right at all, she just couldn't put her finger on it. It didn't help that her model, Meghan, kept on wandering off to talk to the boys on the other side of the room. She toyed distractedly with her black rose necklace. Even its usual cooling effect could not reduce the pounding of her headache. Oh God. Now they were singing.  
  
Elizabeth believed the bane of her life was to be good at all, but excellent at nothing. She drummed her fingers irritatedly on the table, and rubbed at a smudge with a finger, there. Now, if she could just make the dimples a little more prominent, she might start getting somewhere. Dipping her finger into a pot of water, she dampened the end of her pencil and outlined the dimples of Meghan's smile, her free hand gripping the table, making her knuckles white. She should have felt the charge of childish male testosterone, before she was pushed by the pile of kids. A surge of anger washed through her as she was poked by odd elbows and knees. All she heard were the protests of the kids on the floor, and the loud noise of shattering pottery. Elizabeth stood, rooted to the spot. No one had touched that pot apart from she, heart racing, she yanked her shaking hand away from the table. It seemed to hum, and was unusually warm, compared to her other cold hand. Not now, not here she thought. The others were already looking, and Mrs. Lesley was coming over. She rushed hurriedly past the dazed teacher towards the cupboards. Just get a dustpan and brush, clean up the mess and fret about it later. The class was silent and confused. Give it a few minutes and they'll all be talking again. She didn't make that happen, it was an accident. She didn't have that kind of power.  
  
Did she?  
  
*********************************** sorry it's so short again! Next one's a lot longer, promise ! 


	5. Discoveries

Disclaimer: Nightworld isn't mine, blah blah blahhhh.  
  
Thanks to Lisa, the only one has reviewed every chapter, I LOVE YOU!!! Keep reviewing my story, keep them up, any ideas, give me a buzz, it'll really help! I'm on the 6th chapter which is very very long to make up for all my  
skimping (approx four times the size of chapter 5 and growing)......  
  
Discoveries James had given up sieving through more mountains of useless books. Jackal and Eddie had found him, whilst trying to research for a talk on the Salem witch trials. The group had ended up staff fighting in the carpark. James had just swept Jackal off his feet when a crowd of people came out of one of the conference building, heading straight for them, and with them were his parents. Laughing with the excitement at almost getting James busted, the trio ran away from the building, bounding through the streets of Haversham at incredible speed. The light was failing, but darkness is where vampires lie in their element. The three came to one of the RSPB wildlife ponds, and in the high of the crisp night air, they fed upon the wild birds.  
  
"At last, James. We thought you'd never do this with us again! How long has it been since you had even bruised me?" Jackal was answered by a large fist that went flying into his eye.  
  
"About ten seconds."  
  
"Are you challenging m-." Jackal was cut short by the sound of voices in the brush, and the flashes of torchlight. Eddie could hardly breathe for laughing as he coughed the words.  
  
"Oh no! The Police! Lets make like a banana and split!" Before practically falling into a run up the bank, away from the pond.  
  
The three Police officers were checking up on a complaint about a disturbance of the birds at the Pond. The boys had returned into an urban estate, running between the houses and up various alleys. James didn't notice they had split up, until he reached a dead end, the sound of the running police was getting louder, the panic was beginning to set in.  
  
He was trapped.  
  
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"Elizabeth!" the school girl ran up the carpeted stairs, ignoring the demands of her mother, tossing her rich brown hear over her shoulders, streaks of red blazing in the light.  
  
"Hey Mom!" shutting her bedroom door behind her, Liz leaned against it and gave a sigh of relief. Her room, the only thing that had led her to consent to her family's moving house. It was more like a studio with a bed in it. The converted attic was as large as all the rooms on one floor squeezed together. It had an en-suite bathroom, a bed, a sofa bed and a balcony with double doors. Lizzy loved to sit on that balcony, and soak in the sunsets. On one large white wall, dozens of her pictures were stuck, with the sofa at it's base so as to view them in comfort and for visiting friends. Beautiful antique floorboards gave off a light fragrance of beeswax, accented by the green of potted palms, their spiked leaves clawing for the light of the balcony. Nervously, she collected together abandoned mugs, and placed them in a row on the floor. Knowing not what to do, or what to expect, Elizabeth sat before them, and concentrated.  
  
Nothing happened.  
  
Thinking back, Liz tried to remember exactly what happened earlier today. She was annoyed. And very angry. She got pummeled. She blew a fuse. The pot broke.  
  
"Okay, so maybe if I make myself very angry, It'll happen again," Liz wasn't sure if she even wanted it to happen, she just wanted to prove a point. Casting her mind back, Liz thought of all the things that made her angry. Being let down by her friends. Being let down by herself. The day her cat was attacked by a dog and had to be put down. All of these things were slowly coming together, building a wall of disappointments and she directed them towards the mug in her mind. Unclenching her eyes, Liz looked at the mug in front of her. It was wobbling. Closing her eyes again, she dug her nails into the palm of her hand, she knew how her new power felt, she just needed to control it. The rush of energy flowed through her like fear or anger, and ran out and into the mug.  
  
CRACK, the mug had broken.  
  
Elizabeth smiled satisfied. God, it had got stuffy. Opening the balcony doors, Liz tried again. She did it quicker this time, concentrating on that deeper strength in her. The strength that was her passion in every thing. Love, hate, the source of feeling. Smiling, Liz collected the shards of pottery in her hand and walked to the bin.  
  
She had a new power.  
  
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James spun, looking for an escape, he could see the torches of the officers coming up the road already, then his parents would find out, then he would never get those motor-bike lessons for his seventeenth birthday. Where could he go? Garage? Too hard to get in. Trash can? He had morals. Wait, there, a balcony, easy climb and he could just sit it out 'til the officers had passed. With a running jump, James scaled the wall like a cat, banging his shin on a wooden climbing frame in his hurry. Pushing off gracefully from two floors of windows, he swung himself up silently onto the balcony rail. His sense of balance was unique, and envied. He dropped down onto teak decking and watched the confused police officers survey the street, they muttered into their walkie talkies about conducting door to door searches. A sharp pain diverted James' attention, his shin was swollen and bleeding. Yeuch, he hated wood wounds, they always got infected. Resisting the urge to poke at it, James turned to look at where the balcony lead to..........and froze.  
  
Elizabeth was crouched on the floor.  
  
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ohhhh......exciting or what!!!Next chapter may be some time due to the size of it, it'll be max 2/3 days. I might try to cut it up.  
  
PLEASE REVIEW.....or else!!! It's really going to get good in the next chapter, promises of mush coming in the next chapter!!! 


	6. Hiding

Oooh, this is possibly my favorite chapter. Cute cute cute!!! Disclaimer: same as last time. please review!!!  
  
Hiding  
  
Elizabeth was crouched on the floor, picking up shards of what looked like mugs. James took a step backwards, maybe he could escape before she noticed, but clumsily knocked a pot into the balcony railings. Elizabeth fell over, scattering pieces of pottery, and breaking the last few mugs, one after the other, in surprise, with her new gift. She yelped, landing painfully hard on her elbows on the smooth wooden floor.  
  
James forgot to breathe. There she was, the only person in the world he could love entirely. Laying on the floor, looking extremely vulnerable and very beautiful. The undyed cotton skirt she wore had got bunched up around her hips when she had toppled over, the thought of his slipping his hands up that skirt made his eyes glisten with silver, and his pupils dilate. The matching top had slipped to one side, revealing a bare shoulder, her hard nipples pressing against the fabric. I could have her right now, he thought, mind dizzy with the cool night air, and his recent feed, but a few things held him back. One was the fact that his connecting with her body and soul could completely mess up her brain with her suddenly remembering, who knows how many, past lives, not mentioning the fact that he was a vampire, and this alone could cause a large amount of discomfort...... Two, the police were now conducting a door to door search for him, and the police and Elizabeth's parents finding him on the floor with their supposedly innocent daughter was not a particularly good way of making a good impression on them.....And three, James had not yet been invited in, and walking into invisible barriers was not going to help his current condition. She panted quietly, long auburn hair framing her soft shoulders, sad grey blue eyes boring into this stranger of the night. Her crisp scent wafting to James' nose, seducing him without her knowledge. She acted completely calm, probably because she could see no malice in those eyes, only sadness and devotion.  
  
"Hide me," he breathed. What he actually wanted to say was 'Marry Me,' but luckily, the only currently sane part of him called common sense decided against it, and made a slight alteration on the way. It was, however, at that unfortunate moment, that the police and Elizabeth's parents knocked loudly on the door.  
  
Elizabeth flicked her head from the door, to the stranger at her window. Hide, she mouthed. He would never get away in time. She opened the door a crack, to see her mother, father and two police officers, a man and a woman. The girl pulled the cream shawl closer to her body, to conceal the fact that she was nervous.  
  
"Can I help you?" she asked politely, giving a warm smile to the people.  
  
"Hello Elizabeth. Have you seen a group of three boys about. We lost two of them, but we traced a third to the outside of your house, you might have seen where he went, from up here. We just want to check that he hasn't crept up here. I don't think you'd be very pleased to have some strange boy jump out of your wardrobe hey?" Elizabeth appreciated the Que. to laugh, and gave a polite chuckle, turning her head to check the balcony, she found that James had already disappeared.  
  
"Come in then," the adults entered her room, the male officer checking the bathroom, the woman peering in the cupboards. She waved at the collection of pictures on the wall.  
  
"You did these?"  
  
Elizabeth nodded. "Yeah, I took to a pencil like a cat to milk," the woman grinned, inspecting a chalk drawing of the view out of her balcony door, her head looking from picture to balcony and whistled, impressed.  
  
"They're fantastic," Elizabeth smiled proudly, glad that her missing faces on her portraits were mistaken for a personal style. The officers finished by checking the balcony, peering out onto the street, checking that he wasn't sneaking off whilst they checked the houses.  
  
"Well, looks likes our man has gone, or at least, isn't here. We'd better leave you folks alone, and head out."  
  
"What did they do?"  
  
"Hmmmm?"  
  
"The boys, what have they done?"  
  
"Oh, we got a call about some disturbance down at the RSPB pond, and found them there, making noise, probably drink or drugs playing with their brains."  
  
"Yes, well, we appreciate the thought, and you Miss Elizabeth, should be in bed. C'mon, your father'll show them out, and I can tuck you in."  
  
"Awww, mum," she hated it when her mum was like this.  
  
"Whilst you explain why five of my perfectly good mugs are smashed on your perfectly good floor," Elizabeth's mum tapped her foot on the wooden boards, arms crossed. The door closed with a chuckle from the escaping adults.  
  
"I was trying out a new drawing technique, I was going to experiment with shades and curves, and build up a truly.....chaotic picture how can you tell there were five?"  
  
"Uh huh.....whatever you say innocent daughter of mine. It's called a mother's intuition. Now. Hoover, damp cloth, then BED."  
  
"Whatever you say mother...no seriously, how could you tell?"  
  
"There are five handles! Now march!" It was a whole forty-five minutes before her mum turned the light out and left. Elizabeth sighed, listening to the fading footsteps.  
  
"You can come out now," she whispered. With a soft thud, like a cat dropping, the ghostly figure appeared in the balcony doorway, shrouded in moonlight.  
  
"Thanks for hiding me,"  
  
"I don't remember doing anything."  
  
"You didn't tell them about me. Thankyou, I'm in your debt." She hoped the darkness concealed her blush, why did he make her so nervous? She cleared her throat to cover the shake in her voice  
  
"Please, sit down, those officers are still patrolling. You can stay in here 'till they've gone.if you like," James regarded this as an invitation in. He drifted around her bedroom before settling on the sofa. He placed one hand to his face, fingers wrapped around his mouth and jaw, inspecting the slight bristle of a young beard, the other gripped the sofa's arm. His eyes flicked to the clock. Eleven o'clock, he'd better get home soon. Elizabeth sat, arms around her knees, surrounded by a swamp of thick white duvet. They watched each other thoughtfully, eyes locked together across the dark room, a strip of moonlight acting as a barrier, stopping both from moving towards the other. Elizabeth touched her lip in confusion, wandering what this beautiful creature of the night was doing in her room. Instinctively, she reached out for a piece of black sugar paper, and her chalk pencil from a box by her bed. The white chalk moved to draw the moonlight as it fell across the still figure, revealing only the imprint of his shape. She wished he'd blink more often, it was unnerving, and yet, she found it eerily sexy, made her ache to touch him. Stay put and finish the picture, she thought angrily to herself. "My name's Elizabeth, by the way..." I know, thought James silently, it's a beautiful name.  
  
"I'm James," the girl smiled, I like that name, it suits him, it's both powerful, and gentle.  
  
"What did you do? It seemed to piss the police off..."  
  
"I was just in the wrong place at the wrong time,"  
  
"Oh..." minutes of silence passed, James' eyes never left her, she pretended not to notice, but had to concentrate to keep her hand steady. "There, finished," she had built up enough courage to walk over to him. James felt alarmed at her coming to him, his grip on the sofa arm tightened, but the rest of him remained still. Gingerly, he took the offered picture, it was amazing, she had talent and he said so. Blushing again, and mumbling her thanks she returned to the safety of her bed.  
  
"I saw what happened when I startled you..." he could see her stiffen at the remark. "It's OK, I've had experiences with witches and stuff......" Witch, he had used the word that had been questioning her all evening. Her......a Witch. Cool. " I can get you some books, proper ones, that'll teach you how to focus energy, and direct it in spells. You seemed to have been doing well without them though."  
  
"Well, I 'broke' a pot in art class today, I was just seeing if.I could do it again,"  
  
"I could introduce you to some friends of mine, they'll help teach you properly, with time, you could get very good..." she toyed with her necklace excitedly. Witch. The word sounded strange in her mouth. "You could join a circle, I wouldn't recommend Circle Midnight, though the Twilighters are friendly. Circle Daybreak would be best, my parents work for Daybreak, they would get you in. This power you have, is your membership card to a whole new world.."  
  
"Of Witches?"  
  
"Not just Witches, look, maybe I'm not the best person to explain this,"  
  
"No, please, carry on."  
  
"There are other things, are you sure you won't get freaked?"  
  
"I am not afraid of you," her reply caught him off guard, she seemed so.....sure, so confident.  
  
"There are Vampires." Vampires, she didn't expect that, she chewed on her thumb nail.  
  
"Your a Vampire..." good guess, he thought.  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Right...what else?"  
  
"Shapeshifters.....they usually only restricted to different animal forms, the lesser can only change into one shape. Shapeshifters can be born of shifter parents, or bitten by one to be made."  
  
"Lesser ones?"  
  
"Dragons are the true type of Shapeshifter, they can change into any living thing. They haven't been active for years, imprisoned within the Earth. There was one awakened this year, but it was destroyed. The direct descendants of dragons, they're like Kings in the Shapeshifter hierarchy, they can choose what animal they want to be, but after that, they're stuck with that other form for life," James looked carefully at the girl, she didn't look surprised. Duh, old soul, she's probably known about this in dozens of other lives. "There are also werewolves, and, don't laugh, I'm being serious..Zombies,"  
  
"Zombies? Joy."  
  
"They're formed when 'made' Vampires don't get enough of the Vampire blood in them, so after they 'die', they are still 'alive', but they still decompose. It's not very nice."  
  
"Are you a made Vampire?"  
  
"No, I'm a Lamia, the offspring of Vampires, I can age, but I can also choose when to stop aging. I haven't stopped aging, so I am actually seventeen,"  
  
"So am I," she answered.  
  
"There's thousands of us, we are all around you, a hidden world, the Nightworld within the day. We go to your schools, some live in this road. My Dad even fought in the Second World War."  
  
"How old's he?"  
  
"Three hundred and.......twenty six."  
  
"You must spend a fortune on birthday candles," James gave a warm chuckle at the remark. The girl let loose a very large yawn. "And you should be in bed. No falling asleep in school tomorrow," she grinned at him, and arranged herself within and around the covers.  
  
"G'night James."  
  
"Goodnight Elizabeth. I'll show myself out." The girl became silent, shrouded in a feeling of safety in his presence, her breathing bacame quiet and regular. James listened to the officers walk past the house again. Half eleven, he should leave in fifteen minutes or so. Sitting down again, he watched the sleeping girl lie peacefully on her double bed. Maybe now, maybe it was alright now, it wouldn't happen again, he needed to feel her.....James blinked, shocked, he was at the foot of her bed. Moonlight edged her soft pale hand. Something deeper made him reach out towards it, made him touch it......and the room disappeared....  
  
......Elizian was blindfolded. She had been pressed against a cold wall by rough hands. She knew what was coming next, and she tried to brace herself for the pain. Why hadn't she just kept her mouth shut and her limbs in line, rather than lashing out at the Head Guard. If she could control her temper, she wouldn't have made it happen, she wouldn't have set off the fire, her fire. Elizian remembered the dark orange flames, that had erupted from her, engulfing the guards trying to put her back in line. They were scared of her, but if she tried to do it again, they would kill the whole group of them. The Germans would kill them. After the first strike of the whip, the girl decided flatly that imagining pain, and feeling pain were clearly two different things. Imagining pain is greatly inaccurate. The deadly lick of leather swept across her back again, roughly slicing through the skin, and ripping it off. Elizian thrashed against the wall, biting back a scream on the bonds in her mouth. The pain continued, distinguishing the fresh lashes, and the last hit became harder and harder to tell. Tears ran uselessly down her face, soaking into the blindfold. The last and worst hit came. She spat out a mouth full of blood and saliva, the wounds on her back hurting unbearably, the raw flesh oozing warm blood. Why couldn't it just all stop hurting? Why so much pain over a petty question of religion? Why? She sobbed into the wall helplessly, rough hands clawed at her arms. They pulled her out onto the dusty pathways in the Concentration Camp. She had lost all her bearings, but she already knew where they were taking her, the smell of charred bodies filled her nose with repulsion. She could hear the screams of men as they ran up blood stained steps whilst carrying 25kg blocks of stone on their backs, and knew the wet spray on her bare legs was the blood of a man crushed by a dropped rock. Elizian whimpered mournfully as she sensed the weak life extinguish. The path under her feet changed. She was here.  
  
As the girl entered the dark building, all warmth disappeared from her body. She was pushed into a chair. Cold metal touched her forehead, shearing off what little hair she had left. The job was thorough, but ripped off skin with each swipe, and drops of blood ran down her face. Every cut and bruise she'd acquired over the past few years stung and ached, reminding her that they were here to stay, never healing scars. Elizian was yanked to her feet by her elbows, the cold floor bit into her sore feet. She heard the creak of a heavy metal door as it was slowly opened, a babble of screams burst into the girl's ears.  
  
"What's going on? What's happening to us?" Screamed the people.  
  
"Your going to be disinfected. Your going to be purified," they answered. Elizian knew what was coming as she was thrown into the knot of confused women and children The iron door banged shut behind her. Waiting for the end was worse than her aching pains. Gentle hands pulled away the blind fold and bonds.  
  
"Mother!" Elizian was pulled into a hug by her only surviving parent. Her rosy cheeks had long gone, her whole body was thin and under nourished and her hair had been roughly cut as well. The skin hung off the bone, and her infected wounds pussed grotesquely, but her eyes were still bright as she hugged the daughter she had thought dead.  
  
"Elizian! Elizian! Oh my daughter! Your alive! Your alive...." she sobbed into Elizian's bleeding shoulder and the girl held back a wince.  
  
"Where's Dina?" her question was answered by a large shape that ran into her.  
  
"Oh Elizian, I was so afraid when you burnt that guard and they took you away and I thought I'd never see you again!" she swamped her remaining family with a hug. "Ever since Dad died...I just knew I wouldn't be able to manage without you both !"  
  
"It's OK Dina, Mum. It's OK. Look, I'm fine!" Elizian was cut off by a large rattling through the overhead pipe work. The lights blinked and wavered. The strange 'shower heads' that hung over head, blared into life, and a foul liquid came spluttering out. A wave of sickness came over her as she inhaled the poisonous gas, and heard the screams of her mother, sister and friends. She turned to the door, and a sick perverted eye glared back at her, as her lungs absorbed the evil stench. The small children, effected faster by the gas than the adults, fell to the floor, choking on vomit and blood. Their thin frail arms flailing at the feet of their mothers, and crying out with their last breath "take me home Mum, I just want to go home." Elizabeth collapsed to her knees, and spluttered the small content of her stomach onto the metal floor. The gas burned at her skin and at the skin of those around her, raising bloody welts and sores. All the girl could do was claw at the bodies of her family, and have the image of their unblinking eyes, protruding from their heads to bursting point, scarred on the soft tissues of her mind for all eternity. Why? She thought again, as she felt her mind darken, and her throat close. Her last memory was of the darting eye at the iron door, as it watched her reaching out in pain, with her last slither of strength, for the hand of her mother. The same hand that had pulled her up when she fell, that had comforted her when she was sad. When she was crossing the road. If she could hold that hand, it would pull her out of the darkness, away from this endless nightmare...  
  
James pulled his hand free from Elizabeth's, and walked into the moonlight, leaning against the balcony- door frame, hoping the cool night air could get rid of the revolted sick feeling inside of him. He had done alot of school work on the Holocaust and the Concentration Camps of World War II, but seeing it was a completely different kind of learning. Enough to make you hate a culture for life.  
  
"I get afraid sometimes....." the sound of Elizabeth's soft dreamy voice in the middle of the silent night nearly made him topple over. His attuned balance kept him standing "...when I remember all the things I've ever seen, views of beauty, smells........feelings. I get afraid because I think I'll never have them again." She must be talking in her sleep, he thought.  
  
"You still have the memory. That is something that no one can take away from you," he replied.  
  
"True." Silence. "But only with some things.....others, like me, being afraid right now, that you'll walk out that door, and I'll never see you again. Never feel like this again...."James perched at the end of the bed, and carefully stroked her hair. "I am truly afraid of that."  
  
"I too am afraid............." I love you, he thought.  
  
"Everyone is afraid James. Everyone." He swallowed a lump in his throat, and kissed the crown of his her head.  
  
"I will never leave you. Though I am gone in body, I remain in soul." Her mouth tweaked into a smile, though her eyes remained closed.  
  
"Good." He pulled the blanket over her shoulders, it was getting cold.  
  
"I must go now, I have stayed too long.........I will see you soon........." he walked quietly to the balcony. " I promise."  
  
And then he was gone. Elizabeth shuffled in her sleep.  
  
" I will never see him again." She said, and rolled over back into her dreams........  
  
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OK, so, looking back at it now, it appears a bit crap and clichéd, but hell. I'm not going to redo it unless I get sufficient review response to.....or not to.  
  
If any Pride & Prejudice fans/watchers of the BBC televised one, noticed anything 'peculiar', then pop it into a review.....there are quite a few bits there. It's not exactly a Nightworld Jane Austen thing, oh good idea ©, but some of the bits I found particularly fitting.  
  
How was that? I know there is a few flaws to the plot, if you spotted any, fill me in by clicking that luvly lil box \/!down there!\/ i.e:  
  
REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW  
  
Ohhhhh... does anyone know about shapeshifters and children? Does the child become the same animal as any particularly parent, or one or the other? Or do they become something completely different? Just doing a background check for another story idea.....yes another one. Oh, you could put that in along with a REVIEW, hint hint......  
  
Next chapter maybe a while, depends if I can stitch ideas together or not. Please review, if your a faithful reviewee, I'll stick ure name in bcause I'm stuck with ideas for them too. Go-on, have a review...go-on, go-on, go- on, go-on, go-on, go-on, go-on!!!!!! 


	7. Repercussions

Anybody remember this story? Yes, it's the summer holidays, I have time now to sleep, eat and yes...WRITE, I SHALL CONQUER! I SHALL TRY TO FINISH AT LEAST ONE STORY!!! DISCLAIMER: You know the theme people, it is all essentially the creations of L.J Smith, with my storyline!!!!!!!! Huzzah! I am back!!!!!!!!!!!!  
  
Repercussions?  
  
Elizabeth turned over in her bed.........she had been having a strange dream again, a sad dream. Green...green, green, green. Something green was in it. She rolled out of bed and crawled to her bathroom. Green, she thought between brushing her teeth. Green. Elizabeth dried her face and started on her hair. Green....green....uniform! A green uniform? She bundled the top half of her hair into a gypsyish bun. The mirror caught her attention, her reflection, a usual sight, but a blazing eye flicked through her mind. The eye in her dream, peering through the door of the gas chamber. Watching her die. The green of their uniform. The Nazis uniform. The girl stood silent, the memory flowing into her conscious thinking. She was killed mercilessly, for being a Jew. Her hairbrush clattered noisily across the floor, snapping her out of the memory. It was happening again. The dreams, the nightmares. I thought they'd stopped, God only knows I've had enough counseling. No, this is just a....a....repercussion, of a film. Yeah. Lots of films are like that. It's not just emotional shit from my bullshit life, effecting my sub-conscious that is really just trying to communicate the fact that I live a bullshit life. Great help that is. I'm fine now. They were only ever bad dreams. What else had happened last night? What about James? Was he a dream as well? No. James was real. No dream had ever made me....feel that way. Hell, he may as well be a dream. Fat chance of seeing him again. Let alone the Nightworld... A great rumble ripped through the eerie silence of the house. "LIZZY? GIRL, YOU UP THERE?!!!!!" The noise of a car horn followed shortly. "STOP DAYDREAMING LADY, AND GET YOUR TIGHT ASS DOWN HERE!!!" Elizabeth jumped out of her thoughts. Grinning broadly, she rushed to the balcony and leant over the rail, to see her friend. "Excuse me...but could you refrain from staining my respectable neighbourhood with your accented yowls!" "Ohhhh...meeeooww! AH HEM!!! Notice anything...different?" the braided, black American seventeen year old had her arms wrapped around the dark leather of a sweet, rich cherry red convertible. "Mmm mmm, Camilla Eathren what amount of rich men did you sleep with to gain this little beauty?!!!" she bantered, imitating the heavy American accent. "Ah...the beauty of inheritance...lose a uncle...get a car..." "Jesus Christ Cammy...would you be ashamed to have me at your side in this golden chariot?" "Sweet Lord no! It's because of you that my reports are fit to be seen by public viewing (.i.e. my parents) that they thought me worthy of such an addition before my eighteenth." She patted the seat beside her invitingly. "Come on...I know you want to!" "All right, all right! I'll be down in just a second." Elizabeth grabbed her bag, and threw an assortment of books and essays into its depths. She took three glorious leaps to the door, threw it open, lunged at the winding staircase, and went spinning on it's rail down two flights of stairs. A soft cardigan was tossed lightly over her shoulders, and with a piece of toast in her mouth, a exchange of kisses with her parents, and she was onto the smooth clean seats of Camilla's new toy. "Oh! CD player! Wow!" "Calm down girlie, you'll give your self a nosebleed!" "Bye Mom!" Camilla revved the engine into gear, and they went speeding off. Elizabeth pressed a large inviting button on the dashboard, and was met with a loud bass beat of some indistinguishable rock band. They thumped loudly onwards until they were met by the extremely grumpy looking sports teacher cycling to school. "Joy killer," murmured Camilla in disgust, switching off the radio in defeat. She turned sulkily into the student carpark, and placed her permit on to the windscreen. "Cammy." Said Elizabeth, with a hint of nausea. "Aren't driving lessons supposed to make your driving better?" Reaching into her handbag, Camilla pulled out a small laminated card with her picture on it. "My driver's license, came through this morning." She passed it to Elizabeth. "How many pictures did you go through before you were satisfied with this?" "Let's not go into that now." The girl snatched it back, and returned it to her bag. "Come on, out you get! We do go to School to learn you know." "Like driving lessons?" She grinned. "Right - That's it. OUT! OUT! RIGHT NOW!" "I'm going! I feel the need to stop at the toilets." "You ungrateful child! I go, by the kindness of my heart, to drive you to school, and you repay me like this? OUT!" "I know, I know. I'm fucking with you!" She reached into the car and ticked her on the stomach, creating the desired effect of helpless squeals. "Hup!" she yelped, smacking her lightly on the hand. "Now you just stop that now. Go fuck off, and throw up in your toilet." Laughing, Elizabeth took off into the school and down the corridor in the direction of the toilets to run straight. .............into James...again.  
  
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Come on!!! I wrote something! I need at least one review for that don't I??? Ooh, If you're desperado for the next chapter, I update my website quicker, check it out at. www.geocities.com/silverwing_vw 


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